


For Us, A Sky

by skyshadedblue



Series: Mating Games 2014 [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Barebacking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 20:27:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1792144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyshadedblue/pseuds/skyshadedblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“C’mon, c’mon...” Stiles urges Derek closer, hands cupping his neck.</p>
<p>Derek kisses down his ear to his shoulder, pushing off his threadbare vest to get his mouth on Stiles’ chest. It slips to the ash-covered ground, mingling with the dust and dirt. Stiles makes note of where it lays. Useless as it is for warmth during the nightly chills, it’s something to protect him from the daily waste-storms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Us, A Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Challenge 4 of the Mating Games 2014: [Light vs. Dark](http://mating-games.livejournal.com/18643.html).

“C’mon, c’mon...” Stiles urges Derek closer, hands cupping his neck.

Derek kisses down his ear to his shoulder, pushing off his threadbare vest to get his mouth on Stiles’ chest. It slips to the ash-covered ground, mingling with the dust and dirt. Stiles makes note of where it lays. Useless as it is for warmth during the nightly chills, it’s something to protect him from the daily waste-storms.

The night allows him a different kind of protection.

Hard muscle, coated with soot, presses against him.

Cracked concrete surrounds them, planks of rotted wood collapsed into the skeletal remains of family room. Stiles assumes that’s what it is, crushing Derek against some type of soft chair, a layer of powder coming up in clouds. His dad once described to him the cushioned seats made for families set in family rooms of people’s homes, when they had fixed homes instead of encampments. He’s sure Derek’s never seen anything like it either, a roofed shelter a luxury they can risk only for tonight.

Derek rumbles low in his throat, the sound vibrating through Stiles’ skin. “Take everything off.”

Stiles flails, gasps hard, attempting to follow Derek’s order, eager to display himself, watches as Derek takes off his leather jacket, exposing broad shoulders and cords of muscle molded from routine training the Corps enforces for all its soldiers.

The jacket is folded neatly, put aside meticulously. Stiles smirks. “It’s not made of glass,” Stiles says.

“I take care of gifts.” Derek brushes excess ash off the seat and sits, cock pulled out and laid stiff on his stomach. He motions for Stiles to come.

Stiles smiles and straddles his lap, their hands entwining, cocks slicking each with the other’s precome. Stiles groans.

“Is that why you _fuck_ me so carefully?” He accentuates his point, forces his hips forward in a hard pitch.

Derek growls. “I’ll show you careful, if you stop riding against my dick and start riding _on_ it.” He pushes two fingers between Stiles’ open lips, urging him to suck on them, then quickly pulls them out to finger Stiles’ pucker.

“Message received.” Stiles shudders. “Loud and clear--Der--ah!”

Derek’s finger catches in his hole, dipping in slightly, but returns to circling the outside just as Derek kisses down his collar, biting and sucking his teats in long, soft nips.

Stiles pants. “Explosions make you so horny...”

The friction of Stiles’ cock against Derek’s trail of stomach hair, feels too good. He throws his head back in a moan, Derek’s arm bearing his weight, focuses on the warm splay of Derek’s hand on his spine, his gaze on the bits of ceiling still intact. Some of the charcoal sky is still visible. A finger breeches him fully, and suddenly the sky is dotted with little white lights.

Like the stars, his mother once explained, that existed before the Rapture happened. Before the sky became an overcast cloud of black and brown and grey.

His body trembles as Derek brings his seed from Stiles’ cock to his mouth, kissing away the residue. Derek strips more from him, uses it to wet his own dick, slicking against Stiles’ taint. If they were born in a different time, a different stratum, Stiles thinks, the seed could have taken, become more than just another pollutant to indulge in.

Stiles feels Derek smoothing hands all over him, over his shorn head, his body, naked for him. Still so careful. The thought makes his dick twitch again.

“That was quick.” Derek grins, shifting Stiles to bear down on his cock.

Stiles grips Derek by the ears, breaths fast and harsh. The dust in the air is close to choking; he buries his face in Derek’s neck, layered with sweat and cinder.

They thrust against each other, reach as deep, as close as they can make themselves.

“The broadcasts have probably started,” Stiles puffs, “Bets on them claiming another PCon testing?”

The Corps maintain that unannounced detonations are “pollution containment” field testings, so civilians don't suspect an insurgency.

Derek grunts. “Shh, don’t--just--”

Stiles understands, wraps himself around Derek tightly until he feels a hot gush of liquid inside, clenches his hole for Derek, riding the waves to milk Derek’s cock of all his come.

They razed the Corps' main research facility tonight. Brought the Insurrection to the Corps' full and undivided attention.

For now, that they’re still alive, still together, is all the victory they need.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my favorite challenge to write for because it clicked with me on so many different levels where the others just didn't (: Even though I don't think too many people cared for it, I consider this entry the pinnacle of my Mating Games career \o/ Maybe I'll write a longer version of this, but my track record with Sterek longfics is... very evidently, not good. So, no guarantees |:
> 
> Anyhoo, thanks for dropping in (:


End file.
